


What I Want

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: The Equalizer (Movies)
Genre: Dave is divorced, F/M, Full Consent, Unprotected Sex, p in v sex, rough(ish) smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29965158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: You ask Dave not to treat you like you're fragile.
Relationships: Dave York/Reader, Dave York/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	What I Want

You think about him too much.

He’s - what? Forty? Pushing forty-five maybe.

And you think about him too much, especially considering that most of the time when you think about him, it’s with your hand down your pants.

His name tumbling from your lips -  _ David. _ Like a supplication and a prayer.

You think about him too much considering he’s your  _ employer. _

Employers don’t fuck their employees. Or they shouldn’t.

But you want him too.

When you pull up to the house with the girls in the back of your car, David is on the porch. The weather is mild, and he’s got his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. He’s working on part of the porch that’s worn through, replacing a board. His shirt is unbuttoned to his sternum, no tie.

Your mouth goes dry as you help Molly and Alice from the car.

At the sound of the car door closing, David looks up, and smiles slightly, and just the curve of his mouth changes his face totally and he goes from handsome to  _ unforgettable. _

“Hey, Mr York,” you say as you bring the girls up the steps.

He shakes his head. “You can call me Dave. If you want.”

You don’t answer, caught watching a bead of sweat run down from his temple and into the collar of his shirt. The ends of his short, thick hair curl damply.

“I’d better get the girls inside,” you say eventually, hoping your mouth hasn’t been open this whole time. “I’ll make dinner - I defrosted some salmon last night. That okay?”

“Sounds perfect. Thanks.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The girls chatter a mile a minute about the new pet rabbit in Molly’s class and about how Alice held hands with a boy and now everyone says they’re married.

You respond to them, laughing at their retellings as you help them off with coats and shoes. David is still hammering on the porch as you poach the salmon, the steam from the pan bathing your already overheated face.

******

Once the girls are asleep, David sees you to your car. It’s only a few steps, but he always does it. It makes you feel safe. Of all the divorced fathers you could have been employed by, you clearly chose the right one.

“Well, good night,” he says, as you press your key fob. “Carol’s coming to get them in the morning. See you on Saturday?”

“Sure, Mr - I mean, Dave.”

He smiles. “Only took six months for you to call me by my name.” 

Do you imagine it, or does his gaze drop to your lips, for a moment?

“Can’t guarantee I won’t slip up from time to time,” you say, jokingly.

His eyes go dark. “Well, as long as I’m there to catch you, slip-ups aren’t a problem.” He pats your cheek in what should be a gentle, fatherly type motion, but there’s absolutely nothing parental about how his thumb lingers at the corner of your mouth. Every nerve on your body is on fire.

“David…” You whisper.

The moon rises higher in the sky as he bends to kiss you, and it’s gentle, just the brush of his lips on yours, and he tastes of coffee and the basil you scattered over the salmon for dinner-

And then you yank his collar and he pushes you up against the car and  _ devours _ your mouth and  _ oh fuck _ it’s amazing.

It’s like the dam has burst and you yank at his hair with one hand as he slides his palms under your ass and lifts you up. You comply immediately, winding your legs around his waist and arching up against him. The line of his cock is hot and hard, and you whimper into his mouth-

“..Daddy?” comes the word from the baby monitor handset hooked to David’s belt.

It’s like a bucket of cold water tossed in your face. David sets you down, gentle again.

“I’ll be right there, baby girl,” he says, depressing the TALK button on the handset. To you, he says, “I’ll be alone, tomorrow night. If you want to stop by.”

The message is unmistakable.

As you drive home, you think:  _ Am I really going to do this? _

Yes, you are.

Once you’re in your bed, you fall apart under your own hands, thinking about that kiss and the press of his dick into your lower belly.

******

  
  


You spend the next day alternating between being so aroused that just a gentle breeze could set you off, and being so nervous that you contemplate not going to David’s at all.

YOU: Should I eat before I come over?

MR YORK: Up to you. We can always order pizza.

MR YORK: Afterwards.

That settles it. You’re going.

The drive takes twenty minutes. Your hands are clammy on the wheel as you pull up. David is waiting for you on the porch, leaning against one of the pillars of the colonial-style house, a half-smile on his face. He must not have shaved this morning and the hint of stubble lines his jaw. It’s  _ hot. _

He walks to greet you at the car, but before you can say hi, he’s kissing you, his hands around your face, cupping your cheeks, thumbs gently stroking.

You  _ love  _ gentle David, but you also want him to shove you up against the car again. Or a wall. Or anywhere.

“Come in,” he says, and he takes your hand and leads you inside.

It’s quiet, the house creaking gently in that way old, well-loved homes do.

“Drink?” He asks.

“Um… Something strong?”

David leads you to the couch and walks to the liquor cabinet, then turns to look at you. “Honey, if you need to be drunk to sleep with me, maybe I should see you back to your car.”

You swallow. “It’s not that. I want to.”

He chuckles softly, taking out a bottle of Copper & Kings and two small, heavy-bottomed glasses. “Then what?”

You watch him pour two small measures.

“It’s what I want to ask you for.”

He offers you the glass wordlessly and you take it, and press your thighs together. The first sip burns like fire. The second settles warmly in your stomach.

“What is it, honey?”

The endearment washes over you and you take another sip of the brandy.  _ Fuck, _ that’s strong.

“I want you to be… rough with me.”

Something dark and hot passes over his face. He raises a brow like he hasn’t heard you.

“How rough?” He eventually asks, his voice deep and husky.

“I mean, I don’t wanna be tied to the ceiling or anything. But don’t treat me like I’m fragile. Made of glass.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Okay,” he says, sounding a bit strangled. He stands over you on the couch, then kneels at your feet and sets his empty glass down. “If at  _ any _ point, I do something that hurts you, or that scares you - you tell me and I will always listen. I hear that word -  _ stop  _ \- everything stops.”

You nod.

“Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

He takes your glass from you. You watch him for a second, unsure of what he’ll do, and then he takes your hands and leads you up the stairs to the bedroom. You wonder when he’ll  _ start _ , and what he’ll be like, and then once you’re in the bedroom, he closes the door and lifts you up, and your back hits the door, and he  _ ravishes  _ your mouth.

You swallow a cry of satisfaction and nerves and desire, and sink your hands into your hair and tug, and David growls a little in his throat.

He smells of mint and cedarwood and you drink him in as your tongues and teeth clash in a battle you never want to win against him. His front is hot and broad against yours, your breasts pressed firmly compressed against his chest, and he’s already hard as steel as he pushes his hips into yours, pinning you to the door. It’s unyielding and so is he and it’s  _ everything. _

He leaves your mouth and you gasp his name, but then one hand tips up your chin and his teeth graze your neck, that little hurt heightening your need for him.

“David, please-”

He bites down, not hard, enough to leave a tiny mark, and you cry out as he worries the skin as he bucks up against you.

“Bed,” he rasps against your neck. “But first..” He frees a hand from under your ass and pulls at the buttons of your blouse until they pop off, and he smiles down darkly at you.”Oops.”

You’ve never been so wet.

His teeth graze your breast above the lace of your bra. He pulls the cup down with one finger, and then he feasts, sucking hard on your nipple and then rolling it between his teeth before biting down, providing the sweetest hurt that pulls at your lower belly. You press yourself into the heat of his mouth and he hums in satisfaction. When he unlatches, you moan, but it turns to a gasp as he gathers you up and stalks to the bed, tossing you on it

You gaze up at him with half-glazed eyes, unable to believe this is happening, as he unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall to the floor. When he joins you on the bed, he parts your legs with eager hands and shoves your skirt up to your waist.

“No underwear,” he murmurs, and you can’t tell what his tone means, but then he adds, “Look how wet you are,” and he is  _ definitely _ pleased. You open your mouth to speak but you can’t - he’s  _ on _ you like a man starved, teeth and tongue and fingers, spreading you wide so he can touch and taste. 

His teeth scrape over your clit and the twin sparks of pain and pleasure make you buck up into his face. He settles his arm over your lower body. “Did I say you could move?” he asks, darkly.

It only makes the fire inside you burn hotter.

He tortures you like this for what seems like hours but is probably only minutes - easing a finger inside of you, removing it and then plunging back in and withdrawing so you clench around nothing. Combined with the licks and bites on your clit, you’re sobbing his name and begging him for you don’t even know what, until he finally relents and presses the flat of his tongue hard against you, making you see stars against your closed lids. Your legs tremble and he gives you a minute’s respite before he starts all over again. The second time he uses three fingers and you come so hard you think you’ll pass out.

When you can see again, he’s kissing up your lower belly, his lips and chin wet with you, and your blood is pounding in your veins. At some point you see he’s taken off the remainder of his clothes, and he lifts one of your legs up to wrap around his waist - and he plunges into you.

You grab onto his shoulders for dear life as he sets a  _ punishing _ pace, the base of his cock hitting the oversensitive swollen pearl of your clit, and you cry out from the divine wash of pain and pleasure. 

“So good,” he rasps against your neck, and you know you’ll have a mark from his teeth tomorrow. “So good for me.” 

You think you’re just catching your breath when he abruptly pulls out and flips you over, shoving your legs apart hard and driving into you, one arm under you on your stomach to hold you in place while he fucks up into you. You gasp at the feeling of him - deeper than you’ve ever felt a man - mercilessly hitting that spot of bliss inside you.

You can’t prepare, you can’t mitigate the sensations, you can only buckle in for the ride.

“Touch yourself,” he commands.

“I can’t, it’s too-”

“You can. Do it.”

You brace yourself on one forearm, lift the other hand to the apex of your body, and start to circle your clit. David bites down on your shoulder as you do so, and the tiny spark of torment sends an answering clench between your thighs and you come again, shaking from the force of it.

You can only clench your hands in the sheets as David rails into you, and you feel him coil up against you, stuttering out your name as he pulls out, and then the warmth of his come bathes your back.

His breathing is harsh and staccato as he wrings out every drop of pleasure, and then he bends and presses a kiss between your shoulders.

“You okay, honey?”

You feel sore and used and  _ delicious. _ “Yes.”

“Good.” He pads over to the ensuite. You hear water running and he comes back with a cloth. It’s soft and warm and he cleans off his spend, then gently turns you and pats at your nether lips. “Sore?”

“Yeah, but I like it.”

He smiles wickedly and his brown eyes go warm and soft. “Stay? And… pizza?”

You sit up and pull him to you. “Yes, to both.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
